To Build A Home
by darkviridianredhead
Summary: Just when Jenny Shepard thought she had sort of figured out her whole life, Gibbs asks her to take care of an abused Girl whose Parents where the Victims of Murder. Aside from turning her whole world around, the little girl seems to help her figure out an important person in her life. For the purpose of this story, Jenny and Gibbs are in a Relationship.


_She sat on the edge to the staircase of the ambulance, wrapped in a thick blanket that didn't seem to get her warm. Her eyes were dull; she was staring holes into the blazing winter air, the recent events flashing before her eyes, yet still not really reaching out to her. Everything flashed in slow motion. Firemen running through miles and miles of thick, dark smoke, trying to stop the fire and the danger that came with it. She shivered and clutched at the blanket tightly. Someone kept calling her name and she kept failing at opening her mouth to say something. She stared straight ahead, a single tear sliding down her face as realization hit her like a truck. He hadn't been able to make it in time before everything had turned white before her eyes, the explosion shaking her to the deepest corner of her soul. He hadn't been able to save himself and the little girl from the explosion and it was her fault. The little girl they both had grown to love like she was their own. The little girl who never ceased to bring a smile to her face. She pulled her knees up to her chest and her head dropped down to them as she tried to stop the tears from flowing down her reddened cheeks._

 _The little girl who helped her understand the man she had loved for a decade now_

 _The little girl and the man she would never see again._

* * *

 _Three months earlier_

He sat on the edge of her bed, studying her closely, not being able to keep from smiling at her. She was dressed in a fitted, grey pencil skirt that reached to her knees and a white lace bra. She wasn't wearing anything else except a _very_ nice pair of black, high heeled sandals and she was struggling. She really was a perfectionist.

For some inexplicable reason she had decided to throw out half of her shoes and clothes a few days ago and replaced them with a gigantic pile of expensive new clothes. She was rambling something about never leaving her house and hating her job but he wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying. He was paying attention to her smooth auburn hair, falling over her fair shoulders like silk; the way she gracefully paced her dressing room and her soft alto voice hitting him good all over.

She finally picked a white blouse and slipped it on, bound the two ribbons at her collarbones into a loose tie and turned around. She looked stunning.

"What time is it?" She asked, the exasperation in her voice clearly evident.

It probably wasn't fair but he decided to tease her just a _little_ , because he thought it might be funny.

"Eight thirty." Her eyes went wide and her whole body tensed and he was really, really trying to prevent the corners of his mouth from turning up but he just couldn't. She advanced on him and hit him square in the chest.

"Bastard!" She hissed and tried to look at his watch. "What time is it actually?"

Jethro decided he had teased her enough already and stood up, sliding an arm around her waist and giving her a calm look.

"It's four minutes after seven; You look beautiful, Jen."

She smiled when he placed a sweet, chaste kiss just below her ear and his hand wandered down to the small of her back. A content sigh came past her lips and he raised an eyebrow at her. She just smiled wider in response and kissed him. Jenny Shepard was content. She liked what they had, she liked him and she liked the happiness. The happiness she had denied herself six years ago. And most importantly she liked that it seemed to finally last. Yes, all hell would break loose when they'd have one of their fights in her office because that's what it would wind down to. But they _rarely_ fought at home, simply because there wasn't much to fight about. They had decided to keep their work- related fights at NCIS and busy themselves with other things when it came to their private lives. _Work_ , however, was a whole different story. Sometimes they wouldn't talk for days because he could be so stubborn and chauvinistic and she was just… well she was basically the same.

She took a deep breath, not ready to step out of paradise just yet.

"Come on." She said, tugging at his hand softly to get him downstairs. He followed her and turned all the lights off, leaving them in the semi darkness of the early morning. She slipped on a beautiful crimson coat that contrasted to her ivory skin sharply and opened the door to the slightly chilly autumn air. The car ride was laced with comfortable silence, his fingers caressing her thigh absently. He would slide his fingers over hers sometimes, looking at her with just a _hint_ of a smile. Her hand would travel to his neck then, grasping at the hair there, her fingers roaming over his skin absently. She looked at him closely, trying to gauge his mood. Something seemed to bother him. She could feel it in the way _he_ was watching _her_ , touching her almost protectively whenever he could. He seemed _clingy_ ; if one dared to say that about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. She decided to let it slide for the time being, not wanting to start an Argument with him because she felt like he wouldn't' tell her if she asked.

They stopped in the parking lot near her favorite coffee shop and she raised her eyebrows at him when he didn't get out.

He stroked over her cheek and lip softly before kissing her delicately. He didn't cut her any slack by stealing her breath for the longest of moments, before letting her breathe. She opened her eyes slowly and searched his eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked carefully.

He shrugged and looked at her, his eyes unreadable.

"I don't wanna lose us again." He admitted quietly and she looked taken aback.

"Jethro I'm not going anywhere." She said, a little surprised of his behavior. She recognized his behavior after a while of thinking, though. She knew his famous gut was bothering him today. He nodded and got out of the car, leaving her to gaze at the spot where he had been sitting before she got a grip and followed him to the shop.

He had already ordered her the caramel latte with a doubled shot of espresso and cinnamon when she came to stand behind him. She smiled and took it from him, mouthing a silent thanks before getting her granola bar and fruit salad and sitting down with him. She studied him carefully while sipping at her customized latte, almost scrutinizing him, when his eyes suddenly snapped up at her. Jenny looked down at her cup guiltily and waited for him to react, but he simply looked back down _. Something is wrong with him_ , she thought, chewing at the inside of her cheek. She then decided to remain silent and just lace her fingers through his to let him know that she was still there. He would tell her, eventually, and she would be okay with that for now. They sighed in unison, knowing they had a hell of a day ahead of them; knowing that they couldn't just disappear for an hour to seek comfort in each other, be it in a sexual way or not. They would have to wait until night fall. They would have to wait and make most of the time they'd have left.

She hadn't been wrong in assuming it would be a hell of a day earlier that morning. She hadn't even reached her office yet when Cynthia told her she was awaited in MTAC as fast as possible to deal with the CIA, FBI and the Homeland Security. Gibbs had apparently already headed out to the crime scene with his team, because none of them were anywhere near the bullpen. She nodded, already exhausted and disappeared to her office for a minute to shrug off her coat and collect her thoughts. The yelling that was already heard from the entrance of MTAC made her roll her eyes at every single person she knew she had to deal with. Quietly, she straightened her shoulders and walked over to the big screen, clearing her throat pointedly when she stood in front of it. The voices died out almost instantly and she went with her usual act.

Of course they were fighting about who had the right to take the case. And _of course_ they weren't handling it like adults. She felt like she had been in that room for hours already and the three Directors of NCIS' sister agencies weren't doing _anything_ to cut her some slack. Director Shepard almost smiled at them for thinking they stood a chance in this against her best team, so she decided to enjoy their stubbornness for a few more minutes before destroying their opinions with poisonous kindness.

" _Gentleman_." Her voice was low and laced with mock modesty; everyone that knew her well enough knew that she was about to rip them apart. All eyes were on her now, some of them not really focused on her face. She waited for the noise to die out completely and gave them a sweet, almost demure look before opening her mouth.

"Who are the deceased people?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Lieutenant Stevenson and his wife, Mam." One of them answered firmly.

Her eyebrow went up in fake surprise and she narrowed her eyes a little.

" _Odd_ …" she drawled, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "I heard there were six bodies. How come, they don't have names?" She said, her voice still calm, very well aware that the victims, in fact, had all been ID'd already.

"One of them used to work for the CIA, FBI _and_ Homeland Security." Her eyebrow went even higher up. She had rarely met people who had worked for three of the biggest agencies worldwide. Still, at least four of them had worked for the Navy, which made it NCIS' case.

"Well who did the remaining five work for?"

They all looked at her with almost guilty expressions, nobody opening their mouth to say something. Nodding, she shot all of them a firm glare and pursed her lips.

"I think that makes it clear who is in charge. Have a nice day, Gentlemen." She said a little sharply with finality in her voice. Rolling her eyes again, she turned around and signalized the Techs to cut the line. It really never ceased to amaze her how grown men could act like first graders fighting over a toy. She stepped out of MTAC and looked at her watch, her eyes turning wide in shock when she realized she had been in this goddamn room for two hours. Her cell phone went off just as she was about to open her granola bar. Dropping it to her desk in annoyance she picked it up, not checking the caller ID.

"Shepard."

She knew her voice probably sounded harsh, but she was angry, exhausted and tired already and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

"Someone is having a good day." He declared.

"Jethro." Jenny sighed in relief, practically _hearing_ his mouth turn up into a wry smile.

"Please tell me you have good news."

"Bodies are bein' turned over to us for Ducky to perform autopsies and us to investigate. Guess some Director worked their charm…" He answered calmly, knowing his voice could set her off if he didn't. She considered his words for a few seconds and nodded.

"What are you doing?"

He gave her a short laugh and took a few steps closer to his team at the crime scene, red and brown leaves crunching under his feet.

"Watching Tony watch Ziva talking to eye witnesses."

Jenny laughed at that and leaned against her wooden desk.

"I think your rules are being broken, Jethro." She drawled casually, a smile playing around her lips.

He smirked.

"I'm not very good at keeping some of them myself." He said dryly, referring to the relationship they'd had years ago and the one they had now. She had apparently decided not to comment on that, judging by the silence that followed.

"When will you be back?" Her voice was quiet now and he recognized the hints of exasperation in it. She knew he looked apologetic now because silence followed yet again.

"Will probably take a few." She nodded and ran her hands over her face and through her hair. She already missed him.

"God; I already need a drink."

"It's five o'clock somewhere, Jen."

Her lips curved into a brighter smile; she knew he would be saying that.

"Don't go too hard on your Team, Jethro. It is helpful if they're still able to work on the case after arriving here." She already knew his answer and rolled her eyes.

"You know what they say…" He let the sentence hang, whispered a short "take care" and hung up, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

 _Can't make an omelet unless you break a few eggs, Jen._

They had fought about this one a _hell_ of a lot. He didn't seem to be willing to recognize the problem that came with solving problems with some form of physical violence. It bothered her how unnecessarily violent he could get if it came to tricky situations. Yes, it would stop the danger and save lives, there was no denying that, but there were other ways than shooting a child molester in the head for trying to run away. She knew he was a big fan of 'rod in prison for the rest of your damned existence' but his subconscious could snap to full rage mode in a matter of milliseconds.

She knew that somewhere beneath all those cold walls of anger were hurtful memories and sadness. Grief for his Daughter and his first wife. It was why they could never really finish that argument. She didn't want to remind him of his loss any more than he was by some of their cases and so she'd just let it be eventually. She sighed and rubbed her wrists roughly, absently.

Jennifer Shepard or better _Director_ Shepard had formed a worrying habit of unintentionally wanting to hurt herself. She hadn't even noticed it until Jethro had pointed it out a few days ago. After having no answer as to why they were purple and red he'd practically dragged her to Ducky to get them examined. That however had led to the most embarrassing conversation of her life. And just when she'd thought it couldn't get more embarrassing it actually did.

 _"_ _Jennifer are you sure that didn't happen during more… personal activities?"_

 _"_ _What do you mean? Do you think I did that on purpose?"_

 _Ducky swallowed delicately and avoided her eyes._

 _"_ _No. All I am saying is I recall seeing similar bruises after a particularly… active… night in Europe."_

 _Her eyes went wide and understanding and her face flushed bright red. Trying to lighten the situation up for herself she said the first thing that came to her mind._

 _"_ _No ducky, I think we calmed down a bit."_

At first it had seemed like he hadn't given her much answers after asking if she'd been feeling overly stressed recently. She thought she'd been handling her stress pretty well until she remembered one time she hadn't.

It wasn't his fault that he hadn't been there with her at said moment. Still, he couldn't be expected always be there to watch over her like she was a three-year-old. Yet maybe she wouldn't have acted out on her anger in that kind of violent way. She hadn't even done it on purpose. A seemingly endless argument with the SecNav had just upset her so much that she had banged her wrists against the sharp edge of her desk over and over again instead of slamming her palm against the smooth surface on top. She had never _ever_ even thought of harming herself until apparently her body had just decided to give it a try.

And she was ashamed to admit that the anger had subsided more than she had wanted it to. She was a grown woman and she had _always_ handled stress physically well if her sexual activities were anything to go by…

She rubbed her wrist more gently now, reminding herself that there was no point in hurting herself. Picking her granola bar up again while making her way around the desk, she forced her mind to embrace the thought of having something to eat. Again, a thing _he_ had made her do. Apparently the stress of being the Director of a Federal Agency had her neglecting food from time to time. _At least that's what he'd said_. Jenny briefly wondered when he had started picking up psychological stuff… But then, he'd always shown he cared for her.

Coming to think of it, Jenny Shepard thought of herself as a little… _damaged._

She chewed at her bar thoughtfully and sat down. Why was she overthinking everything so in detail? Deciding to finish the paperwork she had neglected a day ago, she slid on her glasses and crossed one leg over the other. Reading over Reports while taking small bites of her bar, she relaxed a little at the sea of words that lay before her eyes. She could've fallen asleep from the repetitive motion of her own hand, signing paper. And she swore she would've, but she wasn't tired enough. She smiled at the irony. There hadn't been a single day when she hadn't been "tired enough" for sleep. She was almost finished two hours later when the door flew open and one Leroy Jethro Gibbs strolled in. He placed his hands on her desk and looked at her for a few minutes. She however didn't stop writing or looked up.

"Did you eat, Jen?" The movement of her hand stopped and she sighed, trying her very best to shrug it off and smile.

"Yes Jethro, I did."

He searched her eyes for a moment to see if she was lying. He nodded when he couldn't find any signs and straightened up a bit.

"Case got a bit more complicated." He said nonchalantly and her eyes snapped up at him.

"What did you do?"

He gave her a wry smile.

"I say complicated you think of me?"

She bit back a remark. Because, frankly, at the Job she _did_. But he was aware of that, so she felt she didn't have to answer that question.

"Just tell me what happened."

He took a deep breath and searched her eyes intently.

"Victims left a little girl behind. Can't turn her over to child services because they'll put her in some foster care."

 _So it was this kind of conversation_.

"Where's the problem with foster care?" She asked, a little annoyed at him for not getting to the point.

"She doesn't want to be there." He answered, hinting that the girl had her reasons.

"You want them to allow her staying with you." It wasn't a question.

"No. I want her to stay with you to begin with."

She looked at him in confusion.

"Cut the crap Jethro, we practically live together."

"I know." He said pointedly.

"Then stop wasting my time by talking around in circles." She snapped back, her head already starting to pound. Her wrists started itching and she hid them under the desk, hoping it went unnoticed by him. He followed her movement and narrowed his eyes, but decided not to comment on it _for now_.

"Some pervert abused her and she didn't feel too well around McGee and DiNozzo. I want her to stay with you."

She considered him briefly, her eyes snapping down. She saw were his mind had taken him. He hadn't said _us_. And she found herself unable to picture her home without him for a moment. But he had a point; and a damn good one. If the girl was afraid of men she be better left with Ziva or her.

"You think she'll be okay around me?"

Looking at her like it was the dumbest question to be asked, he nodded stiffly; anger boiling beneath the surface if his whitening knuckles were anything to go by. She knew it had nothing to do with her but she really wished he could detach himself emotionally sometimes. For his own good.

"Did you talk to her?"

He shook his head shortly.

"Didn't wanna scare her."

Her features softened despite the heavy topic. He could be so understanding and caring from time to time, it made her fall for him all over again. It was the smallest things that he showed that could make her feelings go into overdrive.

"Okay." She said simply and he looked surprised. One corner of his mouth turned up into a semi- smile and he nodded. He came around her desk and stopped behind her. Brushing her hair to one side, he followed the movement of his hand with his lips. Moving down her arm slowly, he grabbed her wrists and caressed them gently, silently hoping it would send her habit further away. She relaxed into him, his warmth and smell calming her down considerably.

"You okay?" He mumbled the question into her hair.

"Yeah…" She answered thickly, honestly.

Her answer seemed to satisfied him until it occurred to him that he might have asked the wrong question. He looked at her and down at her wrists, their even breathing the only thing that filled the silence that followed before he spoke again.

"Anything _stressing_ you?" He rephrased.

She knew he hadn't meant to say the word so delicately; his voice would've sounded nonchalant to any stranger. But she knew him better than that. She knew she couldn't lie about things like that to him; he'd see right through her.

"Everything…" She answered honestly again, careful not to look him in the eyes to worry him.

"Jen…" He let her name hang in the air; his voice worried and careful.

She turned around suddenly and came to stand before him, looked him straight in the eye and considered what to say.

"Don't." She said simply, shaking her head. "I'm okay with the stress right now. And you have to be okay with trusting me this time, even if last time didn't go too well."

Her voice sounded cold but he knew she just couldn't stand admitting having a weakness.

He glared at her for a moment before his gaze softened and he lay a hand on her cheek.

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. She knew he was worried about her. But she was old enough to know the that self-harm didn't help the tiniest bit. She was old enough to control her stress in other ways and one day she would stop acting like a teenager that thinks they're not worth anything. Because she was old enough to recognize his love; the way he cared and his commitment. She held a powerful position and she worked hard and good for what it's worth.

Jenny pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind, feeling her mod darken again. She wasn't ready for that.

"What's her Name?" She asked suddenly; leaving him to wonder who she was talking about at first.

"Myla." He recalled slowly.

"That's a beautiful name." She mumbled, more to herself.

"Yeah…" He said, before his hand slid into hers and he squeezed it gently. She knew he had to get his work done and didn't turn around when he brushed past her, her thumb sliding over the back of his hand before he left.

She felt heavy all of a sudden and she didn't know why. An uneasy feeling started to settle in her stomach, reminding her of that feeling she had had before she'd been shot in the thigh in the Czech Republic. She briefly wondered if Jethro felt the same, because he'd been acting weird all morning.

* * *

Authors Note:

That's it for the "first" Chapter, which is sort of more of a prologue, which is the reason I bombarded you with information (haha). I intended to put this much information of Jenny and Gibbs into this Chapter so the other Chapters don't need that much of a explaining of the situation.

Reviews very appreciated!

xx Tamya


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